The Grace of God

There was a homeless man up until recently here in my adopted home town that generally hung out near the McDonalds just off the freeway, but he was always nice, friendly, never caused issues, just meandered around. Everyone around here knew who he was and pretty much watched out for him as “one of their own”. I think a lot of small towns and neighborhoods have a guy like that … at least much of Main Street Conservative USA does.

Anyway, sadly he died a few weeks ago. It took the local authorities a few days to locate his next of kin, but apparently his family lives in NY. I live in CA. A lot of people around here thought he was a native to the area, but that wasn’t really the case. The gentleman’s name was Elliot, and he was only 57. He had mental issues, but he was never rude or aggressive or anything. He was protected and loved by the residents of his adopted home town.

In any case, his younger brother who didn’t even know where he was until a Placerville detective tracked him down wrote a letter to the area … essentially a eulogy for his long lost brother … that when I read, I cried for who this man was and the demons he fought in his head. I cried because I can see someone I know and care for deeply in the stories shared with us about him. The letter, though, was beautiful. It was written as only a concerned sibling could write. If you’re at all interested, this is the link to the article about Elliot:

To my loyal readers, I offer this as a simple story about a local icon named Elliot who fought demons most of us cannot understand or imagine, even while being raised in good circumstances. You just never know what someone may be enduring. As my father used to say, “there, but for the grace of God, go I”.